


As The Time Counts Down.

by CescaLR



Series: Fic Ideas/Prompts/Tumblr Stuffs/One-shots [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I feel like this is kind of fluffy?, Post-Break Up, Stalia, bear that in mind, secretly a reluctant matchmaker!cora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:05:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13293498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: 'Anonymous asked: Kissing your ex at midnight in new years stalia au?? Pleaseeee'





	As The Time Counts Down.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anon (Tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anon+%28Tumblr%29).



> It's 2:22 in the goddamn morning, have a Stalia fic, goodnight.

 It was late - just past eleven o'clock - on New Year’s Eve.

 “Do you think she’ll get here in time?” Stiles asked, pacing back and forth, back and forth, as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Chill,” Cora ordered, tone flat. “Malia’s been in france, it’s not a big deal if she doesn’t get here for midnight.”

“But it is!” Stiles spins around. “Scott’s not here, Lydia’s not here, literally we’re the only two that made it, what if she doesn’t show?”

By now, the whole plan was ruined. See - they’d had it all sorted out, Stiles had made sure. Or, he thought he had - but Scotty got delayed and delayed and delayed and Lydia - well, Stiles hadn’t seen Lydia in person for a while, now, but at least she’d called in prior to all this (she’d told Stiles not to wait up for her; she was visiting Beacon for New Years - Stiles took that as a polite way of saying she was going to be spending the night with Jordan and likely having a lot of sex) - and Stiles doesn’t really know about why nobody else has shown up, but here they are, Stiles and Cora, waiting on the assholes they call friends.

And Malia. Who Stiles hasn’t spoken to in… a long time. He - well, he’d been hoping, maybe a little, that they could reconcile, at least; a new years resolution of starting over. Being friends again.

(Not that Stiles and Malia had started out as friends, and not that they’d ever only been friends - look, Stiles knew that it’d probably blow up in his face and Lydia might slap them both at some point, he’s not an idiot, but Stiles doesn’t want to lose any more friends, any more of the people he cares about.)

(That didn’t make much sense. It’s - Stiles is already drunk. Mostly so that he doesn’t think too much… blame Cora.)

“She’ll be here,” Cora sighs, gets up and shoves Stiles into the armchair. Stiles drops down, less than gracefully, and sits there listlessly, staring over at the door with an incredibly intense glare. “She’d better,” Stiles grumbled. 

“Don’t wanna spend New Years with just me then?” Cora asked dryly.

They both snorted. That had happened last year, and - well. Last year was last year. 

Stiles glanced at his watch. Half eleven. Or maybe not - he really needed a new watch. “Half past,” He informed Cora regardless, who raised an eyebrow at him and pointed to the much more relaible wall clock. “Nearly twenty-to, actually,” She responded.

Stiles groaned.

* * *

One minute. Stiles was pacing again. By this time, Cora had given up on keeping him still, and had gone to get herself another beer. “Want one?” She asked, and Stiles gave an aborted nod. Cora passed him one, which he immediately took a swig of, before stopping to a halt just in front of the apartment’s door. 

“Glaring at it won’t make her arrive, Stiles,” Cora said, before dropping onto the couch and taking a long sip from her beer. 

Stiles took another gulp of his. “I know.” He grumbled. “But nobody’s showed. Nobody.”

Cora sighed, got up, and went over to pat him on the shoulder. “Chin up,” She said, but her tone was too flat to be comforting. “Always next year.”

Stiles snorted. They’d been saying this for three years now - and three times is a pattern. Stiles had pretty much given up all hope of a decent New Year’s by this point. 

Twenty seconds. Nineteen. 

Stiles turned around. 

Eighteen. “I guess I might as well set off then,” Stiles grumbled. 

Fourteen. A beat. Twelve. “Yeah,” Cora sighed. She tossed him his keys from the coffee table, which he caught. 

Nine. Stiles grabbed his coat, and - 

The door opened. Stiles hadn’t locked it, of course, since they were waiting on friends and if anyone tried to attack them. Well. That’d just be funny, by this point. 

“Hey,” Malia said, standing in the doorframe, breathless, hair a mess. “I had to run from the airport, the roads were all clogged up." 

Five. "Oh.” Stiles responded. Paused in the middle of putting on his coat.  
Four. 

“Three!” The shout comes from the television, and since it had turned into a kind of white noise by this point, Stiles was startled enough to drop his drink. 

“Two!”

“Happy New Year,” Malia grinned, and Stiles looked at her and - 

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Cora grumbled. 

Malia placed her hands on his shoulders, pulled him towards her - and this was something Stiles knew. Muscle memory; Stiles leaned down, slightly, tilted his head -

“One!”

They kissed. 

“ _Whoo_ …” Cora muttered, “yay… and all that. I’m gonna get another beer.” Cora left the two to their own devices - not that she could go far. The apartment; her apartment, only had a kitchenette, after all. 

Malia leaned back, and grinned up at him. Stiles blinked. Multiple times.  
“Um.” He said. “But I thought-?”

“Don’t think,” Malia said, grinning still. Her hair was a mess, her sweater had some tears in the sleeves and Stiles thinks it might’ve been raining - but she’s stood there, grinning at him all the same. 

“You broke up then?” Stiles asked, still bewildered, caught off-guard. Muscle memory, Stiles thinks - but old memory. Something he’s so used to he’d forgotten. That’s kind of funny - Stiles forgetting something. Hah. 

“Ages ago,” Malia smiled. “Though, uh…”

“What?” Stiles asked. “I mean -” Malia hesitated. “Lydia’s not with Parrish.”

Wha - 

_Oh._

“Wait - _seriously_?”

“I know right,” Malia laughed, and Stiles couldn’t help but follow along, caught in the same kind of incredulous feeling. 

“My god,” Stiles muttered, “I think the only people that haven’t dated are us, by this point.”

“Well we have,” Malia laughed. “But yeah. You and Scott - the only ones.”

Stiles shook his head. He couldn’t help it - he pressed another kiss to her lips, and she hummed, happy. “happy new year, Stiles,” She said, after they broke apart. “You too,” Stiles replied.

“Come on now,” Cora sighed. “Cousin, good friend - please, take this elsewhere.”

Malia nodded rapidly, grabbed Stiles by the shoulder - belatedly, Stiles realised he still only had half his coat on - and dragged him away.

“See you next year!” Stiles called back.

“Whatever Stilinski!” Cora replied, before slamming the door behind them. 

* * *

“Well that worked out quite well,” Cora muttered to herself. “Now - where’d I put that beer?…”

**Author's Note:**

> :D


End file.
